Crossing the Divide
by thatcrazygirl13
Summary: What if Valentine was successfull seventeen years ago and the Joycelyn never left him? What if Clary grew up with Jace and Jonathan and influenced by him? Would she turn hard and evil or would she find away around it? AU Has most of the origanal charcter
1. Chapter 1

I don't own the TMI series.

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><p>"C'mon Clary!" Jace yelled.<p>

"I'm coming!" She responded trying to keep up with him and her brother, Jonathan. She _was _trying to keep up with them but they definitely had longer faster legs. It wasn't her fault that they were six and she was five though or that she was remarkably short.

She followed the boys up the steps to the manor house that they were staying in for the summer. None of them knew that Clary and Jonathan's father was only king because he'd murdered hundreds of Down worlders and shadow hunters. They didn't know the reason they were here was that Down worlders had formed a Resistance and were currently sieging Alicante. They only knew that it was fun being here, tucked away in the rolling hills of Idris and that Valentine was home from a circle meeting.

"Daddy!" Clary yelled, jumping high, into Valentine's arms. Valentine hugged her for a moment then set her down to see his sons.

Jace had been living with them as long as Clary could remember. She didn't know why he was here only that he seemed like apart of the family and imposable to remove from them. She watched as her mother walked out of the manor and kissed Valentine and then him and her children inside.

Dinner that night was spaghetti and vodka sauce. Valentine and Jocelyn talked about the Circle meeting while the children talked about their day outside.

"You didn't win the race; I did!" Jonathan growled at Jace.

"Noooooooooooooooo! I won!" Jace disputed.

While it went on for the rest of dinner, Clary stared at her pasta. It was good but she was remembering how jealous she was when Jace was allowed to have his birthday wish but she wasn't. She remembered begging her parents to let her take a spin in the dryer. Needless to say they refused. But Jace got a bath of noodles and Jonathan got a pony.

After dinner Valentine commanded the children went up to bed after notice Clary's yawn and Jonathan's drowsy eyes. No matter how much they insisted they weren't tired as soon as Clary's head hit the pillow she was drifting in an innocent sleep.

*CTD*

Clary felt herself do a back flip of a rafter. Normally twelve year olds would be wearing a harness but Valentine insisted that all of them get the feel of it. She landed perfectly and spun around to find the approval of her audience.

"Good." Valentine said. His voice was ice cold thought. "Now if only you could do that well in sword fighting you may make a decent Shadow hunter. But you don't seem to care since all you do is paint." Jonathan laughed coldly and Clary felt a warm flush on her cheeks. Jace just watched her calmly. Ever since he'd suffered a defeat in northern part of Idris Valentine had been training them relentlessly. He picked on Clary the most. She had no idea why except that he scowled whenever he saw her now. Jonathan had been acting different too. He wasn't her playful older brother anymore, who had teased her but someone who laughed when Valentine scolded her and frowned when every time she was praised.

For five hours they trained Valentine growling insults at them the entire time. When he finally dismissed them, Clary moved to the stables, to see her horse, Garnet. Gently, she threaded her fingers into Garnets mane she put her head in indent where Garnet's shoulders and neck met.

"You know you're not that bad at swordplay," a voice said from above.  
>"Jace?" She asked.<p>

"Yeah?"

"Could you help me?"

She saw his head hanging down from the hay loft, his gold hair hanging.

"Sure!"

So he taught her in the horse arena filled with sand. He was a good teacher, explaining exactly how things worked.

And by the end of that month she managed to squeeze a complement out of Valentine. After he'd left she looked at Jace. He grinned.

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><p>Hopefully it wasn't too horrible. Also please review if you want me to continue. Yes there is a plot but for right now I'm just getting things set up. Most characters will be in it…. Except for Simon but I'm trying figure out how to incorporate him in there.<p>

Thanks

TCG13


	2. Chapter 2

I don't own the MI series.

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><p>When they were thirteen Valentine ordered them to start to attend Circle meeting. So here Clary was watching Valentine speak. She was shockingly bored and didn't why every single one of the people there were staring her father with rapt attention. She had heard it all at the dinner table and had already memorized the topics he went over. Downworlders where the same as demons and must be exterminated and that everyone must remain true to the 'cause'. Clary resisted the urge to roll her eyes and share a look with Isabelle. Both were didn't agree with Valentine but Clary thought ruefully Isabelle seemed to just be doing it to rebel. She studied the order of the seats. Valentine was at the head with Jonathan was at Valentine's right and Jocelyn on the left. Sitting next to Jonathan was Jace. Clary was next to Jocelyn.<p>

Looking across the table she met Jace's eyes. He winked. Sometimes Clary wondered about him. Where Jonathan was utterly loyal to his father, Jace was … complicated. It seemed as if he shared Jonathan's loyalty but there were times when Clary had caught Jace looking like he was annoyed, bored or even uncomfortable when he listened to his adoptive father speak. It made her wonder. She knew what it was treason to speak out about Valentine. She could be tortured and killed for it. But it wasn't right. He wasn't right.

Valentine's cool voice pulled her out of her thoughts. "And with our children going to Alicante for school we must be especially cautious."

Clary's head snapped up and she stared at Valentine.

He continued like he hadn't noticed Clary. "We need to exterminate any Down worlders on the way there." He finshed with that topic and went on as Clary continued to tune him out, thinking about what he'd just said.

*CTD*

It was time. Clary was wearing a bottle green old fashioned and was packing the last of her brushes. With a sigh she looked around her room one last time. It didn't really look like her room any more. The art tools were gone, just like the pretty glass vase that held a new collection of flowers every week and everything else that made this room hers. With a sigh she lifted the suitcase of the bed and started to drag it outside. She made a face at the carriage waiting for them. She hated riding in carriages. They were bumpy and rough. She wished she could have ridden Garnet but Valentine insisted that none of them bring their horses.

A servant, James, she thought reached out a hand to take her last suitcase. She handed it to him and looked around for her mother. She'd promised to say good bye before Clary left.

Clary took one look at the carriage and raced back into the manor and into her mother's studio, to find Jocelyn lying on the floor, unnaturally pale at the feet of a man, her throat torn open.

_No_ Clary thought wildly, _Not a man, a vampire._ If Clary had painted the scene, she could have mixed all the red she had and she still wouldn't have gotten the exact shade of her mother's blood dripping from the vampire's lips.

"_Jace!"_ Clary screamed, looking around franticly for a weapon. There, one of the three knifes that her mother used to sharpen her drawing pencils. The vampire lunged at her and Clary felt her instinct kick in and stabbed the vampire as hard as she could. The vampire hissed and fell back. Using the vampire's wound to her advantage and grab another knife.

But there wasn't a need because before she could make another move, a streak of blonde breezed past her and was on the vampire in a second.

Jace's face was a dark mask as he plunged the knife into the vampire's chest, over and over again, like it was a worm that had multiple hearts.

"Jace," She whispered. "Jace he's dead!" She yelled her voice cracking.

Jace looked at her like she'd slapped him, but he nodded and stood awkwardly. Then Clary remembered why she came up and who was lying on the floor injured.

"Mom!" Clary wailed, dropping to her knees and pulled Jocelyn's head into her lap.

"Go get Father!" Clary ordered Jace, who bolted to the doorway to run into Valentine and Jonathan. Valentine's mouth was tight thin line, like a wire and his eyes were pitch black. He knelt by Jocelyn's motionless body. He looked up and took her pulse. Then he started to carve an irtaze into her neck. Clary moved beside Jonathan and for the first time in years he put his arm around her shoulder and gave her a reassuring one armed hug and pulled her out of the way when Valentine picked up Jocelyn and carried her out of the room.

The trip was postponed until Jocelyn recovered, or at least that was the plan afterwards. But when weeks turned into months and Jocelyn still hadn't said a word to anyone. She ate, and she was awake but she almost never got out of bed. In the months that followed she aged rapidly. It was almost like the vampire had not only drained her blood but her life force. She'd gone gray but not just in her hair, but her skin, her eyes and even her eyelashes seemed to.

Finally Valentine put his foot down. It was at dinner, which had become stuffy and boring.

"What?" Clary asked frowning

"I said _Clarissa_ that you will all be going to Alicante for training in a week," Valentine snapped through clenched teeth.

"But Mom's not better yet!" Clary protested, feeling oddly uneasily.

"That may be, but none of you can squander your natural talent as Shadow hunters, for just one person," Valentine said with deliberate care.

"But, she isn't just one person! She's our mom!" Clary yelled.

"Clarissa! I am your father and you will respect me!" Valentine roared.

"Why!" Clary challenged "Why should I respect the man who has a bloodthirsty vision!" They were both standing now, Valentine towering over Clary.

At this comment Valentine seemed to have taken on a deadly calm, and seemed to have control of himself, but then Clary was on the ground and her cheek was burning. Looking up she saw Valentine still standing there, glaring at her. Jace and Jonathan were staring like they couldn't believe what happened.

Then Valentine said, "You may apologize now, Clarissa."

After that there was slielece except for Clary's ragged breaths.

*CTD*

"Then the Clave accepted the rule of Valentine, but there were some traitor Shadowhunters that left and joined the Down worlders in a resistance against Valentine." The teacher paused to take a deep breath, like he had just run a marathon. His bald head was shining with sweat and his tiny black eyes as big as Clary had ever seen them.

It had been a year since Valentine had shipped them off to Alicante. Clary hated the school. She hated its teachers, who were constantly praising Valentine, the students who pointed at her and whispered, crazy mother, blood-thirsty father and brother, freak, monster, unnatural. The only thing that kept her relatively sane was Isabelle.

Isabelle was like fire, enchanting the Shadow hunter boys, dating them for a month or two then dumping them. Like how you feel so warm and nice next to a fire only to get burned by it.

Her brother Alec, seemed to fade though, seeming like he'd be happy if he just disappeared completely into the background. So in Clary's mind it didn't really make much sense to her why he and Jace were such good friends. Jace was like Isabelle, playing with girls and then breaking their hearts when he was finished.

Jonathan was the biggest mystery of all. He hated the school as much as Clary did constantly talking of how the Shadow hunters were fools who didn't deserve to be called warriors. He rarely went to the secret parties that students often held and when he did he sat in the corner, glaring at everyone and anyone who passed by.

So when Isabelle suggested they skip the day Clary didn't hesitate to say yes. She felt a minuscule amount of guilt for letting their brothers suffer the long day, but she dismissed this, by telling herself that she and Isabelle should talk, catch up.

"So do you know why Jonathan is so… uptight?" Isabelle asked as they looked down on the edge of the city. They weren't supposed to be out here. You had to have official documents to get out of the city limits legally, but it'd been a long time since Clary or Isabelle for the matter had done something legal.

"I don't know. He's just so, reserved. I think it was something Valentine had done to him, when he was privately training him." Clary answered.

"Mhhhhhhhhhh. I'm bored, let's get a little farther!" Isabelle demanded

Clary nodded, her eyes searching for something that wasn't there in the surrounding hills. "'Kay" She replied distracted.

"So there's a party tomorrow night, do you want to go?" Isabelle asked

Clary opened her mouth to say 'sure, why not?" but before she could she felt a thick awful cloth bag over her head, cutting off her air and felt as it slowly dragged her into unconsioness.

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><p>First off I know it's been along time and I'm sorry I haven't updated. I know it was slow in both of the chapters but it will pick up, I promise.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

Never owned, never have owned, never will own. :(

Also I'm currently looking for someone to Beta this story. I'd like it if they could find the spelling and grammatical errors I might have missed and is willing to give advice about how this story is going to go. If you're interested please PM me.

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><p>Clary knew she was on horseback, in front of the rider,and that the horse was galloping through the forests that sheltered the Down-worlder's resistance. That was it. She had no idea how many days she'd been asleep, what drug they used on her or where Isabelle was. She would admit it- she was terrified, but she was still under the drug's haze and whatever they'd dosed her with it seem to suppress emotions. She felt sleepy and for a moment she almost left herself slip into unconsciousness, but jolted herself awake with the simple horrifying idea that she had no way of knowing where she was, who had captured her or how in the hell she would get Izzy and herself out of this mess.<p>

Suddenly she felt the rider sit back and the horse rapidly draw itself to a halt. She looking down she just realized that her hands were tied behind her back and there was a rope around her waist binding her to the saddle.

Roughly, the man (definitely a man thought Clary as she noticed his beard. ) untied Clary from the saddle and roughly pulled her down and quickly dumped her on the ground like she was filthy trash he wanted touch and dispose of ASAP. Clary looked up quickly and saw that the man must have been a werewolf. He defiantly had battle marks as if he'd fought as a wolf that had taken several chunks out of him, leaving him with pocket marks all over.

Then Clary realized with a sickening jolt that this wolf-man, might not just murder her quickly but use her as an example and torture her till her body and mind gave out. It wasn't uncommon for around every two months, a body to show up in Alicante, marred beyond recognition. It had been one of her worst nightmares. Of course the ones tortured into insanity where sometimes worst off than the bodies. Most of them were so lost, they didn't know who they were or even if it was night or day.

Then she heard the crunch of a boot on twigs and was able to see a completely average man step out, into the clearing. The man's voice was rough and low, but Clary could still hear strands of their conversation.

"- The Lightwood girl could be held for a nice little ransom, but the other one, Valentine's daughter, the resistance would pay a handsome price for that one… but Valentine might just be willing to pay more. Perhaps we could make it a bid?" the average man hissed.

"Hmm… I was originally planning to hold them both for ransom, but you bring up a good point. The resistance would pay a good price for her. In fact several Down-worlders would… I know Camille Belcourt would give anything to get her hands on a Morgenstern." The other growled.

The other nodded quickly.

"Contact as many as you can… I need to find a place to stash this little jewel." He said motioning to Clary.

"Don't hurt her. Remember, Anthony, most Downworlder's want to do the damage themselves."

"Of course, Jamal." Anthony flashed a smile that was more like a snarl than anything else. "We wouldn't want to lose any money would we? "He let out a harsh laugh before picking Clary up, flinging her over the saddle before he mounted the horse and dug his heels into the horse's flanks.

For what felt like hours they galloped through the forest, moving at a rapid pace. When Anthony finally stopped it was in front of a tiny rough wood cabin.

Calmly picking Clary up, like she was a sack of potatoes he strode into the cabin and promptly dropped her in the right back corner on the dirt floor. The cabin was even smaller on the inside and had rough furniture all made out of wood. There was a big fireplace with a big black pot hang over it. Right in front of the fire place was a tiny wooden table with two chairs on either side.

The left wall was bare except for a doorway with a curtain hanging from the top.

"Aubrey!" Anthony barked and Clary saw a thin woman with curly black hair, sallow skin, and huge onyx eyes that matched the dark bags under them, emerging from the behind the curtain.

She calmly glanced at Clary as if she was used to seeing, tied up people sitting in a corner of her cabin, and had long ago resigned herself from having any emotions about them.

"Yes?" she asked in an unattached, dispassionate voice.

"This," Anthony said sweeping his hand at Clary "Is Clarissa Morgenstern, and she, my darling, is going to make us rich beyond our wildest dreams."

"Ah." Aubrey said as if she'd had him tell her that over a million times and was just playing along to get him out.

"Aubrey, dear if you could just make sure she eats and drinks and is alive and healthy for about a month and then doll, you and I, we're rich.

Aubrey just nodded.

"Well," Anthony said awkwardly "I'll be negotiating her price. I'll be back with the money soon though." He yelled as he walked out the door.

After the horse's hoof beat's faded Aubrey let out a low long sigh.

"If I had a dollar for every time he said that," She said under her breath.

After that Clary's life fell into routine.

Be spoon-fed breakfast, count number of logs used to build the cabin, let her mind wander aimlessly for a while, be taken to bathroom, wonder about Izzy, think about her mother, think about her future, nap, hopefully be fed dinner, and try to sleep. Aubrey never said a word to her and Clary wasn't sure she should talk to Aubrey.

Clary tried to count the days she really did, but after thirty she lost count.

But it all changed on what Clary thought was day fifty two,(It was really only day forty-seven.)

It really started at noon when Anthony burst in, being followed closely by a warlock with yellow-green eyes, surrounded by glittery purple eye liner and who looked partially Asian and a man in a dirty flannel coat. They were polar opposites. The warlock looked young, pouring out life, vitally and energy. The man on the other hand seemed to be sad, faraway distant, like he was about to do a chore he didn't want to do. Or at least he seemed to until he saw her. Then he started up and looked like he'd seen a ghost.

"Jocelyn?" He asked shocked. "Why are you here? I thought you were ill!"

Clary started at him. Who in the hell was he? How did he know her mother?

"Who are you?" She whispered.

The man blinked. The warlock turned to the man and hissed coldly, "You promised Valentine's child! Why in the hell is his wife here?"

"It's not his wife! It's his daughter! She just looks like her mother!" Anthony cried desperately, obviously scared shitless.

"Excuse me! But who are you?" Clary asked trying to keep her voice as steady as she could.

The man blinked. "I am Lucian Graymark and this is Magnus Bane." He muttered, giving a halfhearted gesture to the warlock.

"Greetings," Magnus said flatly, his voice ice.

Clarissa was shocked. Everyone had heard of the two masterminds behind the Resistance. Valentine despised both with a passion.

The first time Clary had ever seen him truly and utterly burning with rage was when she was eight. He tore through the house, like a mad thing, throwing things over, wrecking paintings, even the master pieces that Jocelyn had put months on end of her time into, roaring at the servants, and cursing the names, of the traitor werewolf, Lucian Graymark, and the abomination of a warlock, Magnus Bane.

Terrified Clary shrunk into the corner, staring at the man who she had always thought had ridged control of himself.

Looking up at the huge winding granite staircase she had seen Jace and Jonathan, staring wide eyed at their father.

When Valentine had finally composed himself enough he ordered a Circle meeting. Everyone must attend he added in a scary growl that didn't take no for an answer.

For the first time in years Valentine Morgenstern had been made a fool, by his traitor of a friend and a gay warlock too.

To say Valentine had a vendetta against them was an understatement. He was convinced that the vampire attack was from them and would do anything in his power to punish them. Now they had his daughter as well.

Clary was brought back by Anthony trying to barter with Magnus. Lucian was just standing there.

"What do you intend to do with me?" Clary asked him, trying to sound brave.

The were-wolf looked down at her and a ghost of a smile flickered on to his tired face.

"For now I intend to get you some where you don't have people bartering over you."

And with that he swung her on to a horse's back, before mounting his own. Clary could see Magnus shoving a wad of money into Anthony had before he got on to his own horse.

As they were riding away, Clary heard Anthony exclaim "Aubrey, we're rich! Three hundred dollars for that one!"

Aubrey sighed a low long sad sigh before responding "It's thirty dollars dear."

*CTD*

Isabelle loved noise. She loved the way guys sighed when she walked down the halls of the school, loved the chatter of people when class got out. Sound was life. It proved there was something there, something real.

But recently her favorite sound had become the crack of her whip, or the sound of her dagger and the ripping sound as her cloth bag target spilt open signifying that she had competed another successful work out, another non-existing enemy defeated, another twenty minutes or so of her short life wasted, but bringing her one step closer to being out _there._ One more step to finding Clary, making Jace come back to life.

She had been returned home, three days after they had taken her and Clary. Her kidnappers had demanded thousands of currencies from different countries, leaving a clearing in the woods for the Shadow hunters to drop off the money. Once they were satisfied, they left a drugged, completely helpless Isabelle alone in the same spot the money had been taken from.

They had made her feel weak. She had been at their mercy, her life, in their hands. They could decide if she lived or died, if she was to remain prisoner or return to her family safe.

And she had hated every moment of it. She was a shadow hunter for God's sake, not some whimpering little girl.

Her family was in deep shit. Valentine had refused to approve the ransom, saying he would not let shadow hunter funds to aid the rebellion. Her parent had ignored this. Or more her father had convinced her mother to.

She'd woken up from her drug induced sleep in a carriage, where two guards calmly informed her of what had happened.

The moment she stepped out of the carriage, Jace was on her, demanding if she was okay, where was Clary, did she have any idea where they might have taken her? He'd continued questioning until the real questioners stepped in.

They asked the same questions. It didn't help. The entire Clave was too dumb, too stupid, from following Valentine. They were no longer warriors. They were sheep. Dull eyed, cud-chewing sheep, that couldn't do anything.

Jonathan had taken the news into account with a deadly fury. If he had hated the Clave before it was nothing compared to now.

_He and I aren't so different now are we?_ Isabelle though bitterly. _Both of us hate the Clave. But me? I'm fire. I have life, I'm alive, I'm not under Valentine's thumb. Jonathan on the other hand, is ice. Cold, a monster._

_We may have common goals and similar idea's but mine are based on wanting to make my people stronger. His are for blood and his own enjoyment. He's a…sadist._ That was how the English professor stated it.

To her shock she felt angry tears burn her eyes.

Wiping them away impatiently she made herself and her lost friend a promise.

_Don't worry Clary, I'll find you. If it's the last thing I do I'll find you. _


	4. Chapter 4

I don't own the characters. I don't own the shadowhunters or Idris. But I do own this story.

Also a huge thank you for those who reviewed.

I'm also going to try to start updating every two or three weeks from now on, and the story should start moving in on to having a plot. Please tell me if I missed any mechanical errors.

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><p>When Clary was a little girl there were three facts she was sure of:<p>

1) Her parents loved each other and the family they had created.

2) They would do anything to keep this family of theirs safe

3)Downworlder's were evil and would tear them apart.

Now each of these facts were turning out to be lies.

When she'd left for school her father seemed to have given up on her mother and them. He no longer cared. He'd done nothing for her.

And now here the Down worlder's were offering to spare her and keep her safe.

After she'd been retrieved from Aubrey's, the trio proceeded to a carriage where they bustled Clary in.

"So," Magnus said in a lazy smooth voice. "What do you have in mind, Graymark?"

"I don't know" Lucian said slowly. "It depends on Clary."

"Well then, I guess it's your call, little girl." Magnus murmured in a cool voice.

"What do want from me?" Clary asked softly, her green eyes, a dark deep emerald.

Ignoring her and Magnus, Lucian leaned down and said "We want to give you a choice. You can willingly give us your information, and your word to never fight alongside Valentine again and take a neutral role in all of this, or you can remain a prisoner of war."

"So, you're asking me to betray my family and leave my home, just to please you?" Clary demanded.

"No. We're asking you to do this for your sake. When the Resistance wins- and we _will _win- Anyone in Valentine's family with likely be forced into hiding or killed. We're offering you a way out." Lucian stated his voice matter of fact.

"You're still asking me to turn my back on my people," Clary repeated.

"No I'm-"

"This isn't getting us anywhere," Magnus snapped his eyes devoid of light. "Show her what he's done, Lucian and see if she still refuses."

"But she's just a-"

"You're right. She's is a child, but she's an important child who needs to make her own decisions."

"You know my decision," Clary stated, her voice cool.

Magus inclined his head forward and a knowing smile played across his lips. "Of course, your majesty." He said mockingly

Lucian frowned. "You should consider this more before you make decision. It's-," He stopped as, Magnus gave him a look.

Lucian's jaw tightened but he nodded tightly and stopped talking, trusting Magus and his plan.

The ride to the prisoner of war camp was dreadful. Clary had never seen so much mud in her life and all of it was on the path. The path itself was filled with sod, dirt, and rocks that got caught in the horse's hooves. Several times they had to stop to either lead the horses by their bridles through the muck or to clean their hooves.

As if to add the discomfort of the trip it was drizzling softly and a cloud of fog seemed to hang around the forest making everything cold and damp.

Clary's escorts were not friendly, but they were civil, which was more than Clary could say for the rest of the people in the refugee camps they passed through. Men spat at her horse's feet as she rode by and the ragged clothed children that she encountered were silent and grave, looking up at her with fear-filled eyes as if she would suddenly jump off her horse and murder them all. What shocked her the most was the surprising number of humans that inhabited the camps. All were thin and wary of her. None were kind.

When they arrived at the camp she realized, it was not a camp but a gigantic fort of castle.

One of the guards, Meliorn, let out a soft cruel laugh at her face.

"What did you expect, human? Did you think we starve and torture you as you do to us? If I were in charge we would reciprocate your treatment but the were-wolf refuses to let us show you how you've treated us."

After the owner of the fort, Ragnar Fell, greeted them, and laid out his conditions for Clary's imprisonment, and showed her rooms to her, she was free to do as she pleased as long as she stayed within the castle.

Ignoring Meliorn's pointed suggestion that she should go to her rooms and stay there, she wondered around the place, getting hopelessly lost and then finding her way. Everyone regarded her with a mild wariness but they knew she couldn't hope to defeat the fort's guards without her steele.

Eventually her stomach and the smell of food led her to a gigantic kitchen. It had ovens of every shape and size, from the modern ovens to a spit were a pig was being hand turned.

She hovered in the doorway unsure of what she should do when a tiny birdlike middle aged woman with curly black hair that clustered around her tired face, covered in flour from head to toe beckoned her over; taking a break from the dough she was kneading.

Grateful, Clary moved across the kitchen quickly and did as the woman instructed her to make bread, and set to measuring her ingredients and after that kneading the dough.

For about fifteen they worked in silence, surrounded by the noise of the kitchen.

Then the woman took a deep breath and said "So how was your trip?"

"What?" Clary looked at her, startled.

"How was your trip from the main base to here? I'd expect it to be awful but it's still a polite question to ask."

"It sucked?" Clary offered cautiously.

The woman laughed. "You remind me of my son, Simon. He's out fighting off demons. But he'll be home in a couple of weeks."

Clary frowned. The woman looked mundane and acted like one too. But mundanes' shouldn't be here. They were supposed to be safe and living their own normal oblivious lives.

"Oh. Excuse me for asking but are you human?"

The woman smiled and nodded. "But we have no choice to be here. Demons went wild after you stopped fighting them so we had no choice but to fight ourselves."

"But we were assured there were people fighting them!"

"There are. Just not shadow hunters. You were born to do this. We were not." She smiled sadly and shook her head.

"But if we don't all is lost. We allied ourselves with the Downworlders so hopefully they defeat Valentine and we go back to how things were or at least as close as they will get.

"My home was destroyed and my daughter was killed. I want see Valentine fall and the order of things be put back to rights. You'll find a lot of people who've lost just as much as I have and more, Clarissa."

"Clary," She corrected quickly.

The woman flashed a grim smile. "Elaine, Elaine Lewis. Come see me if you ever need someone to talk to."

"Morgenstern," She heard Meliorn's crisp voice snarl out. Looking out she saw him at the door way she had stood at. "Come with me."

Ignoring Elaine's worried glance and the other cooks curious ones, Clary strode forward, keeping her head high and tried to keep the fear out of her eyes.

"Come with me," Meliorn growled, turning heel and leaving Clary jogging to keep up with the warrior's pace.

When Clary saw where they were going she opened her mouth in protest.

Meliorn cut her off with a hiss. "Listen to me you, idiot girl. You are not safe here. People would love for nothing more than to kill you, and I count myself among this group but I will refrain from my own anger until my queen orders otherwise and then I will take sweet pleasure in killing you. Others will not. One is in this castle now and is currently hunting you down. So go into your rooms and stay there!"

With that he shoved her in to the room and slammed the door behind her.

Her rooms weren't much. One was a tiny sitting room with overstuffed couches and a one huge chair and the other was a bedroom, containing a simple four poster bed and wooden dresser. For hours she paced, slept and wondered about her future in general.

Then, around three hours later, she heard, "Don't be a fool, elf! I can smell the blood of a shadow hunter. I will find Morganstern's blood and when I do she will pay for her father's sins!" A ringing bell-like voice echoed down the halls.

Suddenly everything was quiet and the then there was a horrible sound of metal being crushed and misshapen and manipulated like it was never meant to.

The door swung open, revel a beautiful blonde vampire in the doorway.

"Hello, Clarissa," She purred, like a cat who caught a mouse and was playing with it. "I've been meaning to speak to you. But first let me introduce myself. I'm Camille Belcourt, leader of the vampire clan of Manhattan. You see your father seems to find it entertaining to torture and kill those in my clan." Her eyes narrowed and her canines became razor sharp. "I do not condone such actions, Clarissa!"

Clary was defenseless. She had nothing, and Camille was about to strike.

"Shush," Camille murmured sweetly, as if talking to a baby, trying to lull it to sleep. "I'll be quick, child." Then with a savage grin, she lunged.

Clary was defenseless. She had no weapons. Then she remembered the shadow hunter's rule; Anything is a weapon.

In a last desperate attempt she grabbed a table lamp and swung it out her.

Suddenly, Camille crumpled. Standing behind was a tall lanky boy, with dark hair.

Clary stared at him, jaw slack.

"Simon Lewis," He said, introducing himself. "Pleased to meet you."

*CTD*

"Absouslutly not," Ragnar said, firmly.

"I just want to see how mundanes live. It will be a quick ride on horseback."

"No." The lord of the castle shook his head. "You wish to go see how mundanes live, go talk to one in the castle. You even think back to your ride to my fortress. Ever mundane lives like that now. Always in fear, always vulnerable. There are actually about fifty million mundanes left on this planet. That may sound like a lot, but believe me, Shadowhunter, it's not, when you think about the entire earth."

"I still need to see it with my own eyes," Clary snapped.

"You already have and-" But whatever Ragnar was going to say was lost when a young servant came in. "Sir, Magnus Bane wants to see the Shadowhunter." He looked nervous, and his eyes kept flicking to Clary like she was going to suddenly go insane and attack him.

"Very well," The warlock sighed. "Please led her to him them."

Looking like Ragnar had asked him to stick his hand into a tank full of piranhas the young boy practically ran, to the rooms where Magnus was sitting, waiting calmly.

As Clary walked in Magnus smiled as if he knew what she was about to propose.

"Hello Clary" Magnus said calmly. "Have you reconsidered your decision?"

Clary looked at him, knowing how he'd carefully planned this, for her to see everything, all the hardship and suffering. Maybe it was how her father described it. Maybe the mundanes were threatened only by Downworlders. But even if that was true than what were these people doing here? Elaine didn't strike her as a liar and nothing could drive humans into Idris, expect for demon interference.

Steeling herself, she took a deep breath and announced "I have and I have another proposition." Magnus smiled indulgently and raised an eyebrow. "And?"

"I help you, give you the information needed, but I will not stay here. Instead I will go and I will fight demons at the edges driving them back. I will help fight any demons that try and raid the world. Are there any other Shadowhunters not under Valentines rule that still fight demons?"

Magus nodded. "Yes. There are only a few hundred left but they are there."

Clary drew herself up to her full height, which was not much making the crown of her head level with Magnus' collarbone, she said firmly "I'd like to fight with them."

Magus nodded, unable to control the corner of his mouth going upwards in the beginning of a smug smile.

"We have a deal." He said solemnly.


End file.
